A Tale From the Heart
by SarasaComet
Summary: Some stories give out harsher lessons than others; to those brought to the brink. This tadpole learns that even if you'll follow your leader to the edge, he may never look back. - A Tamama story.
1. Chapter 1: A Plan Gone Awry

In the early hours of the morning, soft sun light filtered in through a glass window, ornately carved all around its' frame. The rays bounced and played all around an opulent bedroom, adorned with pearl white dressers and a nightstand, all with acutely designed detail, even up to the glass handles brandished on every drawer. A grandfather clock sat on the far side of the room, a pendulum swinging quietly from within. Across from it, on a the nightstand, laid a folded cellphone, complete with a cupcake charm and another in the shape of a yellow star. Next to it was a platter with plates and forks neatly set, the center commandeered by a large stack of french toast with freshly poured syrup, and a container of cream and butter by the side. Next to the faithful nightstand was a king size bed, dressed to the nines with pillows and fluffy blankets, cute beanie plushes and held on a frame with sweeping curtains around it. A huge comforter sat on top of the other blankets, thick enough to wear as a coat, and warm enough to insulate properly even in winter. And from deep within this pool of warmth and comfort, someone stirred sleepily.

A cozy blueish-black head raised, covered on top by a large sleeping cap with a cotton ball at its' tip, and a small insignia over the forehead in the shape of divided shield. Two sleepy eyes slowly opened against the sun, and grew accustomed to the lighting before shining with their familiar eagerness. The blankets were smoothly pushed away in a mechanical and welcoming way, and a small, plush-like being was revealed. A tail wagged behind it, as it caught scent of breakfast.

"Ah! I smell cinnamon! Paul must've- eeep!" The small being chirruped excitedly, and leaped across the remaining bedspread, pouncing on the unsuspecting platter. This innocent soul was only Private Tamama, of the Keroro Platoon. Tamama shoved a fat slice into his mouth, licking powdered sugar from his lips. He was about to dive for a second piece when a dull ringing caught his attention. Tamama looked down to see his small phone ringing gently to the tune of some cheery pop song. He reached out and touched the edge of it, before picking it up and twiddling the charms with his free fingers. He swallowed his mouthful and sang happily into the phone, "Hello! You're talking to the one and only, most adorable tadpole ever, Private 2nd Class Tamama!"

"P-Private?" Tamama bolt upright, eyes staring and heart beat skipping. No, it couldn't be, he _never_ called...

"_S-Seargent..._?"

"Ah, Private Tamama! I need you!"

"Need me...?" The air was thick and he felt breathless. His leader, his mentor, the one he looked up to... needed him?

"I've got a new invasion plan-"

From the background came a hoarse shout and Tamama held the phone away as the Corporal's battle cry came through loud and clear,

"-KERORO, DORORO'S THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED WE WORK WITH ANIMAL PARTNERS! AND KULULU'S THE ONE WHO SAID TO USE- OH DAMMIT, JUST TAKE THE CREDIT, ANYWAY. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? DID YOU TELL TAMAMA TO COME ALREADY? DOESN'T HE KNOW WE NEED HIM? TELL HIM IF HE DOESN'T GET HERE SOON-"

"KERO! Corporal, quiet down! I'm telling him, just settle down-"

Tamama's heart fell. _They_ needed him.

But then his lips curved upward again, into a shy smile. They _needed_ him. His smile widened into a grin.

"I understand, Seargent! I'll be right over!"

They needed _him_.

**...**

"So... Platoon, do you know why we've met here today?"

Tamama waved a free hand wildly in the air, hopping forward in his seat. Next to him, McGrouchy-Pants-Extrodanaire, otherwise known as Corporal Giroro, sat cross-legged, his arms folded over each other in a similar fashion, and an extremely impatient expression plastered onto his face. He was gritting his teeth, and the edges of his fangs were just barely visible, sharp as ever. Tamama wished he'd lighten up, but at the same time, he felt the pressure of his experience and sharp-wit crackle into intimidation. He might think that Giroro took this way too seriously, but there was no way he could say it.

On Tamama's other side was only Kululu, fingers of one hand absentmindedly tacking away at his keyboard, the other hand preoccupied with flipping a pen over and over in his palm. Though, even he seemed more serious than usual. What was normally mistakable for normal internet browsing flickering across the screen of his laptop, was now quite _unmistakably _hundreds of rows and columns lining up on spreadsheets, filled to the brim with numbers of all calibers. Some added up at the bottom and others ended up turning a searing red color, indicating where the numbers just didn't add up. Kululu waved his pen at the computer, "Tsk-Tsk"ing it, before throwing a dozen more numbers into the mix until they turned a dark and acceptable black.

Keroro watched their activities with little interest. After a moment of consideration, he waved his hand widely, and indicated a large, empty screen behind him.

"Does no one know what we're doing this time? Or are you just too self-absorbed to add to the mission?" A pointed insult, he was probably trying to get a rise out of Giroro, the only one who was still insulted by the thought of letting down the invasion at this point. To some extent, he succeeded.

"You thought of another invasion plan, haven't you? I don't want to lay around talking about it, let's just do it already." Giroro growled to no one in particular.

"Patience, Giroro! You'll never win an audience if you just give away the ending to them! You have to have build-up, a conflict, a climax, and a spectacular ending! So let me build it up..."

"I'll supply the god damned conflict if you don't get talking about this so-called 'Master Plan' you've thought of."

"I'm glad you asked, Corporal!" Keroro crooned. "I think it's time to fill in our green-horn," here he twirled his hand at Tamama, "about our plan! I already have things set in place, but we just need the team's full cooperation to make it come together!"

Keroro turned his back to them, facing the empty screen.

"There is only one animal the Keronians, with all their advanced technology, have never been able to tame. It has remained wild and vicious as the day it was discovered, never bowing its' head to anyone! We will become like this fierce animal, so we can win Pekopon without anyone stopping us! And to become like it, we'll have to think, eat, and breathe like this animal! And what better way to do all this, and more, than by studying one up close and personal?"

Tamama could feel a nervous feeling creep up on him, and gulped, asking the question he wasn't sure he wanted answered,

"A-And just what animal's that, Mister Sergeant?"

Keroro whipped dramatically back towards them, raising one hand in back of himself, towards the blank screen. At a signal to Kululu, an image flashed across the entire board, edge to edge. Keroro let loose the fatal words,

"Obviously, the Space Cerberus!"

At the appearance of the image, Tamama had recoiled back in his seat, tipping his head back in horror. To his side, Giroro grunted dully, but his eyes sharpened and the grip on both of his arms tightened intensely. He could probably recall fighting fiercely against one some years ago, and probably still remembered the wounds.

The image was simple: it was of a three-headed animal, covered in thick metal plates and with three eyes per head. Teeth as large and sharp as a shark's stuck out of it's fearsome maw, while claws that looked like they could tear an iron wall like it was tissue were splayed across the ground as the animal wound itself into a pouncing position. It was an understatement to say it was intimidating.

"Uhm, Sergeant, how can we learn from those things? They'd rather eat a keronian than conquer it!"

"But don't you see? We can learn to be just as tough and untamable as one of these! And that pitiful human, Natsumi, will submit to whatever we want!"

Suddenly the Sergeant's words "studying up close and personal" flashed through Tamama's mind, and he felt a cool chill go down his spine.

"S-Sergeant, what do you mean, when you said we'd study them... did you mean, we'd go to the zoo-?"

"Oh, dear, dear, Private. Not at all! To get into the personality of this animal, it simply won't do to read a textbook or google it! No, I was thinking something much more... hands-on." At yet another signal to Kululu, the screen behind Keroro went reeling towards the ceiling at a ridiculous speed, and more stage was revealed behind it. Tamama leaned forward in anticipation, unintentionally gasping a little when he saw what had been revealed.

Behind Keroro was an enormous cage made of some metal predictably much stronger than iron, with a thick gate for entering the contraption. And it seemed that deep within this barred prison was...

...nothing?

Oh _no_.


	2. Chapter 2: It's Dangerous To Go Alone

dang i don't like how i wrote this.. but I've made you wait for awhile on it, so here, take it. nothing exciting really...

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**...**

Faraway, in the oasis of a mansion that Tamama had left behind, two sides of a war were being waged. The first warrior came down a massive staircase with carefully woven carpet and gloriously shining rails, into an illustrious foyer. Her feet pounded across marble as sheer and brilliant as the sun, and to the sides were arching walls with gold-plated designs adorned with the occasional glinting semi-precious stone inlaid into their art. Suits of armor and beautiful victorian statues stood guard at the sides, watching the world with so tenderly produced visages that it was hard to believe they were mere metal and stone. None could have been a more beautiful battlefield.

However, the two at the epicenter of this battle seemed not only unaware of the grandeur splashed around them, but completely uninterested in it. A petite, sweet-seeming girl with short hair the color of the sky before a storm, or rather a very intense teal, came stomping down the steps with agitation practically screaming out from her with every advancement. Behind her trailed an older butler, in tux, with age belayed only by his greying hair and mustache, but not at all by his quick movements and adept posture. At the bottom of the stairs, the young girl whipped around so quickly her pursuer nearly tripped down the last steps. She immediately began to screech,

"Paul! You don't have to follow me so closely! You don't have to be near me at all! Just let me go about this on my own!"

"But Lady Momoka-," she flinched at the reverence held so strongly in that name, "I must follow you to make sure you are safe, and if you are going to approach the Hinata's household, isn't it even more necessary for me to accompany you?" Her impatience seem to grow tenfold and her height, even at her stature, along with being at the bottom of the steps while he was several steps higher, seemed to grow even taller than him. His pleasantries were shadowed with unmatched indignity.

"I _don't_ need 24/7 watch! Do you think I can't look out after myself? That I am _so _spoiled I don't know how to handle a couple of space frogs? How will I ever toughen up if you guys are always down my throat? Can't you go? Can't you just leave me alone?!" She turned away again and began marching off, teeth gritted and fists clenched. However, a soft patter of footsteps behind her told her she was still being followed. This time she whirled around so quickly that Paul had to jump backwards just to avoid hitting her. Fury flared in her eyes like a greedily fed fire.

"Just get away! Stay here! And don't you _**dare **_follow me, I _**mean**_ it! I'm going to show you I can go places on my own!" A stomp, a slam, and she was gone. The sound echoed emptily through the cavernous room, unanswered and unaccompanied by apology. Paul hesitantly moved forward, then backward a step, then forward another. If he followed, he ran the risk of angering Momoka further and possibly worse, noting her unfortunate tendency to get violent when pushed. However, unaccompanied she was vulnerable, and susceptible to attack from any enemy. The distance between the Nishizawa house and the Hinata's was suddenly exaggerated unimaginably, projected in Paul's mind as huge and defenseless. Horror at the thought of anything happening to dear Momoka spread through him, but if he was anything, it was resourceful.

With great haste, he procured the nearest telephone, rapidly dialing numbers of a sequence he'd memorized long ago. "Please," he begged gruffly, listening to the tone ring to no answer once, twice, and a third time, "for once, please, help."

**...**

"-Couldn't have gone far, so we can probably just set up base and wait for it to show up again-" Keroro's words came very fast and very anxiously, rushingly flowing into the already exasperated conversation.

"I can't believe that bastard let it get loose... there's no way it's anywhere near the base now." Giroro's voice rumbled quietly in response. Chaos had luckily been quelled in the underground base, but it remained on thin ice while the search for a solution went underway between the invaders. Keroro had hurriedly banded the group together in the base's centre, hoping the defenses were strong enough to bar entry from the space dog while they discussed their next move. Currently Keroro was quickly and incoherently blabbering about a search party plan. Tamama leaned back, his face pinned by an unsure expression, listening with rapt attention to his sergeant's ideas.

"-so if we could say, set up a trap, then perhaps it would come to us instead, maybe if we used a clamp? Maybe with some meat-" Next to Tamama, Dororo continuously raised his hand and then dropped it again when no one responded to his gesture, before raising it again with some unaccounted for thought. Across the circle, Kululu was back at his laptop, not even bothering to feign interest in their discussion. Numbers flew through his computer's columns and rows, evening out stacks upon stacks of numbers that had transformed from black back to the painful bright red, telling the technician that things had gone terribly wrong with their neat color code. As if Kululu didn't already expect that. To Tamama's other side, Giroro was standing in a battle stance and brazenly fighting Keroro's every word. They were arguing vehemently from the anxiety born of knowing something bad will happen very soon, and very terribly. Suddenly Keroro's words regained clarity and Tamama heard his voice again,

"-Okay, so we're agreed? We stay here and lay low, and just wait for it to come! Perhaps Dororo would like to stand guard outside and watch for it-?"

It was mere seconds before Giroro cut in with a raucous shout of disapproval.

"No, dammit! That is a terrible idea- that beast would probably mistake him for a meal! No, it'd be much better to send out a search party and find it before it finds us. I can head a mission out to search-"

"No, it could find us anywhere, gero! We have to do something more subtle."

Giroro just answered with a roar of, "MY GUNS CAN BE PLENTY SUBTLE WHEN THEY SHOOT THAT THING IN THE FACE." and advanced towards Keroro.

Although the desperation of the situation was settling in, Tamama wasn't very worried. Worse things had tried to kill them before, and everything had turned out fine. He placidly traced designs on his leg like a child rather bored by his parent's fighting, and huffed to himself. There seemed to be much better plans, much better compromises, but no one would listen to him. He was just considering when he'd last had a snack, when he was bothered by a sudden ringing. A peppy pop song played at his hip, chiming loud enough for everyone to hear. Giroro turned to face him, lost in the middle of a sentence he'd been stopped from finishing, agitation beginning to show. Keroro, upon noticing the sound, though, seemed happy to have an excuse to end the fight early.

"Tamama! Answer that at once! We must get any new information possible as soon as possible!"

"What could the person calling _possibly _kn-?" but the Corporal's satirical comment was cut off before he could finish it. Tamama's voice rang out as he sung relievedly into his phone,

"Hello! You're speaking to the one, the only, Private Tamama! Wassup?"

For a second, there was no reply. Then a hushed voice answered him through the receiver,

"Tamama," it was _Paul_, "I need you to do something."

"What, like a mission?" He hushed his voice, too.

"Yes, but it's very important. Please! Lady Momoka has departed from the mansion to Fuyuki Hinata's household-"

"Momo-chii's coming over? Why didn't you say so?" Tamama squeaked happily.

"No, Master Tamama, you don't understand. She's going _alone_. I need you to find her, and protect her." Tamama grew quiet for a moment.

"O-Okay. I'll do it. B-But only if you think it's important..."

"Nothing else at all is more important at this moment, Tamama. I know you'll protect her perfectly."_ Click_.

Tamama's heart beat furiously and he closed the cellphone slowly with a second _click_. Everyone watched him, apprehensive and jumpy. They'd only heard his half of the conversation, and didn't know what was happening now. Keroro shifted uneasily on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with Tamama suddenly having a new, unknown priority.

"So... what's going on, Private Tamama?" Keroro asked nervously.

"I'm gonna go and find Momoka, I suppose. And go with her to make sure she's safe? Yeah." He quickly got up and turned around, glad to be done with the unusually serious situation, and unsurely headed towards the door. However, before he could make it, Giroro grabbed his arm with a tight grip and held him back.

"What're you, an idiot? That dog's loose out there, probably out of the base by now even, and you're just going to go skipping along to meet up with her just because someone asked you to?"

Tamama looked down, beginning to blush with shame, for he hadn't thought of that.

"Oh, sorry, I'll just-"

"You know you can't go alone." Tamama lifted his head again, hope alight in his eyes. He instantly responded peppily with, "I can totally kick butt on my own!" but Giroro's stern look said _No, No You Can't _and Tamama knew he couldn't argue.

"Well, who'll go then...?" He slowly turned his head to look at everyone in the room. They all avoided his glance, awkwardly pretending to be preoccupied. Until Keroro bounced forward, holding up his hands in fists and excited.

"I can accompany him! And we can send out search parties like the Corporal wants, too!" Tamama jumped with shock, and blinked blankly. Keroro... would come with _him_? He tried his hardest to smother his excitement, but couldn't hold back a wag of his tail. Meanwhile, Giroro turned to their leader, approval spreading through his face.

"Good, now I think the best way to do this is-"

"Shuuush, I know what I'm doing, Grouchy. I can go with Private Tamama to apprehend poor Momoka, and bring her back to her home, seeing as our place is in danger right now, right? And Kululu can stay here to track the progress of the Space Cerberus and make sure no one gets hurt, okay!" Keroro launched his plan at them happily, and so-saying, grabbed Tamama by the ear and dragged him towards the door. He just barely yelled back at them, "Okay, you guys start with that while I chaperone this little meet-up!" before rushing out.

"Wait- no-! God dammit Keroro!" Giroro yelled after him, but he was too late. The door slammed after him.


	3. Chapter 3: Did You Even Hesitate

two things: 1) this isnt dead at all and though I'm really pumped to write for it there's so many higher things on my priorities right now okay stop tellin me to hurry up 2) I WAS GONNA MAKE IT LONGER BUT THEN LIFE HAPPENED fUCK. also yay for faint allusions to other fics ive writen...

* * *

"Well... what're you going to do, Cap-a-tain?" Kululu purred at Giroro, bravely toying with the second in the command. The failure of the plan had barely phased him, seeing as he'd expected it from the start. Giroro, however, was still on edge, and bared his fangs at first, looking like he was going to jump him in an instant, then narrowly calmed himself.

"I'm just going to head out and look around, taking as many weapons as I can. I'm going to find the dog before it finds us. Kululu, just... yeah, stay here. Continue your surveillance, I might need to contact you."

Kululu leaned forward, head on one hand, smirking widely.

"I'll be waiting for your every command." He cooed with way too much pleasure.

Giroro shook off his words with a shudder, then nodded silently. He strode forward, brushing arrogantly through the door, summoning a rifle into his palm as he went.

Kululu continued smirked for a moment, lost in a happy thought, then lowered his head again, and immersed himself once again in typing long, long data sequences as quickly as possible into his speadsheet. If anyone had ventured nearer to him, they'd discover the coding was very precisely built for once purpose, and one purpose alone. But no one had ventured near, had they? Kululu let out a hollow "Ku, ku, ku~!" in spiteful joy.

Nearby, Dororo looked on, the words on Kululu's screen moving too fast for him to understand. He instead looked everywhere, at the ceiling and door, bemused. In the climax of the situation, everyone had overlooked assigning_ him_ to a job.

"They didn't... forget me, did they?" He whispered miserably, half-knowing the answer already, opening the door and pushing himself out, hoping to go off wordlessly.

But suddenly, Giroro's gruff voice shot through clearly from above,

"_OI! _Dororo! You were supposed to come with me, too!_ Bring the medic kits!_"

**...**

Shadows pooled under trees and around buildings, seemingly stockpiled for the shorter and shorter days to come, snuffing everything out with their dark touch. Only a few street lamps fought off the blackness with their eager brightness spilling out into the streets and around the sidewalk- but even they could not reach the trees to the right side, marking the edge of a shallow forest on park grounds. It was stock still this late at night, but it still made Tamama nervous and jump with the rustle of the trees against the breeze. He was glad he was out on the brick and in the open, and not plunged in the lightless wash of that pseudo-forest. Even if it was just leagues away.

He also regretfully wished he'd gotten to the meeting earlier, because only in leaving it did he realize it was getting so late. His little feet tapped against the stony surface, a constant_ tap tap tap_ that reminded him he had a place to be and not much time to get to it. _Did Momoka really think staying out this late was safe_? He was trying to reason an answer, but a sound reverberated through his mind, impossible to ignore. Harmonized with his own light tapping was the nearby padding of another's footsteps, working in perfect time with his own, creating an echo that smoothly followed his lead and made him all too jumpy and shaky with awe.

_S-Sergeant_...

Tamama caught his breath sharply, trying to study the trees soaked in a darkish orange glow by the street lamps across from them, each one thinly illuminating bits of the street up ahead. He was trying desperately to get his attention scattered by the colours and bouncing lights, but instead, it was only intensified by the leader next to him, who was walking with the lazied swagger only summonable by a veteran with plenty of experience, something that left Tamama envious of his pride. Sergeant Keroro had probably done dozens of little task missions like this in his free time, they were probably barely a bother at him at all. So _why..._

_...why_ did it feel so amazing to walk just so near him that their fingertips occasionally brushed, awkwardly letting Tamama feel the smoothness of their skin and the gentle jostle of Keroro's hat as he moved, why did all that make his step quicker and make his chest thrum excitedly with pleasure? He wanted to barrel the thoughts out of his mind, determined to stay focused on his very most important mission, but his Sergeant was just there, smiling dully at his own genius of his new born plan, already overcoming his failure from earlier that day. It was enough to inspire any rookie. Tamama shook his head nervously, pale yellow hat ears thumping against his head. He must focus. No Keroro. None. No matter how awesome his power, no matter how inspiring his strength- nope! Focus time!

Tamama was just in the middle of abandoning his focus and wondering if it would be worth it to try to make his pinkie brush innocently against Keroro's, when his precious leader jumped violently into the air, hat tipping backward as he shook from head to toe.

"T-TAMAMA, L-LOOK!" He screeched in terror, pointing out into the woods with a single finger as his pupils became tiny in his round white sclera. Tamama turned his head quickly, scanning the area where his Sergeant indicated, and gasped sharply as he bounced backward in shock.

A dark blur ran among the trees, so much faster than his eyes could follow, its' shape lithe and smart among the blunt and thick trunks. It was some creature or thing running from something, and it was going as fast and intensely as possible. Nothing any ordinary thing could muster; it was super powered and unnatural.

Apparently Keroro thought so, too.

"Could it be...?" Keroro murmured, still frozen in horror, crouching just a few feet behind him. Tamama saw his chance, drew himself to his fullest possible height, (though still a few inches below his commander) and nodded resolutely, understanding everything at once.

"Yes, it could be! Let's go, Sergeant! Let's fight the cerberus!"

Keroro went sheer white at his words, clearly not ready for that kind of confirmation.

"I-I don't know, that thing was a bit small, don't you think? Could it be, maybe, something else? That perhaps we can tell Giroro to take care of?"

Tamama shook his head vigorously, determination already flaring through him.

"No! If that was it, we have to make sure it hasn't hurt anyone! It's our duty! Momoka's strong enough to protect herself, but a normal person couldn't possibly fight off a creature like that! And if it's a person, we have to make they weren't hurt! It's _important!_" His last words almost came out as an exasperated whine. He didn't want to deal with Keroro's unwilling cowardice right now.

But Keroro shot him a pained look, and eased out of his position, seeming to balance morals with reward. _A saved person would be awfully grateful_, his eyes seemed to shine. Tamama was a little ashamed of his leader, for once, but if it got him to help...

"Well...did you see where it went, exactly? C-Can you lead?"

Tamama smiled victoriously, and snatched his leader's hand up without a second thought.

"Of course, leave it to me!"

And they were off. They moved quickly under the guise of the barely lit night, crisscrossing the deserted street into the underbrush beside the walkway. In seconds they were among the lush trees and running down a decaying pathway, pushed and padded by many park-goers before them. But their journey was far more somber than of those people, and Tamama squared his shoulders against the weight of the situation. He might very well have to fight the space cerberus, the strongest non-sentient animal in the galaxy, the beast only bested by the strongest warriors and bravest battlers, the beast Giroro had only just slayed within an inch of his life... and _he_ might have to fight one with only his Sergeant by his side. He gulped.

_I can do it, _he whispered inwardly. He'd be as strong as the Corporal, as swift as Lance-Corporal Dororo, fight with as much expertise as Kululu, _and _he'd be as good as Sergeant Keroro. He could do it. He could really do it! He was grinning to himself, too happy to contain it- he could finally show them, finally show everyone his power! And they'd love him for it. _Yes._

But his thoughts could not go on so long uninterrupted. Suddenly Keroro was beside him, once again, hand raised and face pale.

"It went that way! Behind that patch of grasses!" He yelped, and sure enough, a stark silhouette flashed through some reeds ahead of them before disappearing deeper down the lane. Tamama didn't even hesitate this time, he sprinted after it without flinching, his leader's cries of distress fading behind him as he leapt over fallen trees and broke into the reed patch, burs catching on his hat and thorns ripping lightly at his tail. He gritted his teeth but sputtered on, falling into a clearing surrounded by thin saplings overshadowed by tall oaks that blocked out almost all of the moonlight until it was near darkness.

A dark shape lingered at the edge of the space, half-hidden by burdock and ivy, pitted against a thick maple tree and hunched across the battered trunk, as if seeking its' support. Behind the hidden anomaly Tamama could only see dark splatters like ink blots radiating out from around it, splayed all across the tree bark. Only it wasn't ink, and it shone light and... _fresh_. Tamama moved back, suddenly his journey halted before its' end.

He was scared.

He moved back a step. Then another. He bumped into a yearling, its' frail trunk almost snapping under his weight. Another step, another, he was almost hidden beneath a spider vine whipped around the nearest tree, almost tasting escape on his tongue. He felt the taste of shame and guilt on his tongue for wanting to run, but he really did want to fight, too! ...He just didn't want to die.

And that's exactly when it became too late.


	4. Chapter 4: Hold Your Breath And Run

these are terrible cliff-hangers... sorry I'm not sorry orz

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"PRIVATE TAH-MAH-MAAAA!" A voice cried out from somewhere far behind him. Dull shock broke and scattered all throughout him. _Sergeant. _His commander was racing through the thick wall of bull rushes, trampling them without concern for the noise he was making (though it was almost worth it to see one ricochet and come back up to smack him over the head). But even that was not calming enough, and Tamama let out a squeak of fear, gripping the fold of his hat tightly. He tried shaking his head violently, waving a hand at Keroro to stop him half-way and get him to go back. But Keroro saw his movement and only hastened his pace, knocking a sapling aside with a spry _thwock _of his palm against the shoot, snapping it like a limp twig. He was grinning wide, triumph back in his eyes and hands on hips.

"Taaaamama! There you are! Don't run off like that! I was almost getting worried! But it's alright, while you went ahead, I used the opportunity to call in to Kululu, who sent Giroro and Dororo over to our zone! So we should be safe soon enou-"

The rest of Keroro's speech was drowned out by a piercing wail emanating from the other end of the clearing. His sergeant froze, eyes wide. "Wh-What was-" he began again, but this, too, was stifled when Tamama threw himself at him and covered his mouth with one hand and pinned him down to a nearby black ash with the other. Keroro's surprise deepened, and he grabbed resistingly at Tamama's forearm, but he was proud (though mostly relieved) that he was stronger. Normally Tamama won't dare to hurt or even touch Keroro so unprovoked, but this was not a normal situation, it was dangerous and Keroro didn't understand it yet. Blushing a bit, he held his body across Keroro's, obscuring him from view, letting the darkness of skin help blend him into the night forest, hoping to buy even just a moment of time.

"Sh- don't speak- it's here." He hissed in a low voice, eyes belaying his desperation for cooperation. His sergeant merely blinked in communication, and Tamama allowed himself only seconds to sneak a look over his shoulder, to check on the thing that'd called at them earlier before.

It was faster.

It came flying from it's half-hidden position, crossing through the copse in just seconds, darkness obscuring its' rather small body and blurring its' movements into the trees. Tamama tried to run but before he could even get a foot away he felt his body collide with the other's and he tumbled headlong, body smacking half-heartedly against an oak as something- or, someone? pulled him down against the earthy terrain, leaves and gravel splaying out from under him. Someone's head hovered over him while they held him down with their body, and Tamama gasped in horror as recognition flooded through him.

_Momoka._

"Wha-Why—Momo-chii! MOMOKA!" Tamama cried, half delight, half terror. His eyes found her face again and as they adjusted he could see the soft contours of her face and her familiar teal hair pushing past her ears and falling all around her cheeks as she breathed shallowly only an inch or two away from him. But then he focused and he could see more; the panic in her eyes, red rimmed and tear-stained, a thin cut running over her cheekbone and a thick gash that ripped through her thin coat and into her arm that seeped the dark, dark ink Tamama'd seen before. Her expensive jacket was torn up the sleeves and muddied along the bottom, coated with the prickly burs Tamama still had stuck on his own hat, as if she'd been in the forest a long, long time. Tamama raised his hands like a child and let his fingers brush around her face, horror drenching his joy at finding her.

"_What happened?_" He barely breathed, dread in his entire voice. Momoka took a deep, shaking breath, opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She bit her lip, which had cracked and left a smear of blood on her chin, and bowed her head to bury her face deep into Tamama's tiny chest, breathing into the small space between human and frog very quickly. She wordlessly sought comfort in his arms and he rose them and pulled around her neck, clinging to her without a sound, slumping over her shoulder and trying to wring his small arms tight in a hug. Finally, her voice came forth, unusually stilled.

"T-Tamama."

"Y-Yes?" He answered, still quiet. His heart pounded in his chest with a wild, anxious tattoo. Everything was going to be okay, right? It had to be okay, right? Right? _Right?_

"Go. Leave._ Please_." Tamama blinked, then involuntarily shivered to his core. Momoka's voice was cold and slowed with exhaustion. How long had she been out here? He released his hold on her neck and pushed against her collarbone, his face looking straight into hers, determination burning through him once again; even if it was being eaten just as quickly by uncertainty.

"N-No, Momo-chii, I'm here to protect you! I can bring you back, to uhm, home, okay? Okay?" Even as the words rolled off of him, he knew she couldn't hear them. Her gaze was blank and unseeing, looking beyond him off into somewhere or something else.

"No. You have to go. You have to leave. You have...to..." Her voice cracked and trailed off, and Tamama thought with little hope that she was going to break out laughing and admit she was joking, but instead her voice raised suddenly and with a strained effort, filling Tamama's ears until he couldn't hear anything else,

"...you have to get OUT OF HERE!"

Tamama struggled free of her grip completely, and hopped back down to the earth.

"Wh-what are you talking about? Let's get going, quick! Ya see, there's this beast on the-" But Momoka didn't even hear him, and continued on, her voice faltering but going on without stopping.

"Tamama, there's a monster out here, it almost killed me! I know you're really strong, and so are your friends, but you can't fight that thing, it's not normal, it's!" tears burned Momoka's face and she broke through the glazed fear from before, seeing Tamama at last, but instead of hugging him with some fake joy she stepped back, terror in her every move. "Tamama, I'm hurt, I can't run fast for long at all. You have to go. I'll try to get back home, really, but you have to go, okay? Promise me, run, GO! You don't have much time!"

"Momoka..." Tamama breathed, and hurt drained his voice, he knew her saying this meant she cared about him, cared so much, but he couldn't bear it, he couldn't bear leaving her alone in the woods when his mission was to get to her and keep her safe, he couldn't possibly fail his mission. It wasn't an option.

A familiar _thwack twack _sounded from Tamama's side, and Keroro scuttled out into sight, apparently having hovered near them for quite some time. He glanced between the worn down Momoka and his Private Tamama.

"Private Tamama..." his voice was quiet, contained. He looked like what he was about to impart would hurt, and licked his lips in preparation. "We need to get out of here safely, do you understand?"

"B-But, Sergeant! We have to bring Momoka back!" Tamama stepped forward, anger choking his fear. A distant thrumming filled his head, and he couldn't hear anything else but his thoughts. Momoka had to be okay. She needed to be. He needed to save her!

"I know! I want to bring her! I just think we need to leave, now, okay?" Tamama relaxed, and for the first time since entering the trees his muscles became untensed. The thrumming got louder, a distant rumble filling him from head to toe. He could still save her. He nodded resolutely.

"Okay, understood! We'll leave at once, okay!" He stood on tiptoe and held onto Momoka's hand, leading her forward with a cautionary step. She looked like she was going to protest for a moment, but she was too exhausted to even try, and tightened her hand around Tamama's grip.

"H-Hey Tamama?" Keroro hesitantly asked, before they began moving. "D-Do you hear that?"

The rumbling grew louder, beating wildly in time with his heart.

"Hear what?" He chirruped, looking back. He was impatient, he wanted to get out the dense cover as soon as possible and into the warmth of his bed where Momoka could read him a story or have Paul make him tea. It was just so late already, and tire was beginning to wrap around him.

"That rumbling! Look, listen, it's getting louder!" Keroro growled, looking up at the branches as if seeking the noise's source. But he was right, the noise that had been permeating the air was now a thrashing sound loud enough that even Momoka jerked her head upward a moment, eyes unseeing but body quaking in silent fear. She whipped her head back to Tamama, eyes widening and focusing again, opening her mouth in silent terror.

"Tamama" she breathed, and even that wane effort showed in the strain of her face, and she struggled to articulate the next words, shutting her eyes tightly against the pain. Tamama listened for her voice, waiting for it to cut out clear across him, dread gripping him again.

Because, it was almost as if...

_"TAMAMA, RUN!"_

...she recognized the sound.


	5. Chapter 5: Turn Around And Fight

okay this was actually supposed to be even _longer_ buuuut I am seriously pushing my chapter length consistency, so enjoy an (almost) not-heartwrenching cliffhanger. Also this is where the rating is juuust beginning to come into play, kids

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And before they could even move, before they could even exhale, the beast was _there_. And Tamama's entire vision was absolutely filled with its' flailing, tearing body, the clearing full of its' silvery heads and teeth that shone brilliantly with moonlight glinting off of them and the metal covering its' entire frame, allowing it to move and flow like dazzling mercury. It enveloped their sight as it worked up and down the tree line down the path from them, heads bobbing together as its' all nine eyes found their prey.

One single thought closed in on Tamama.

_Run._

The rush of acceleration pounded all throughout his body and sent emergency signals careening through him in all directions, energy crying out from no where and working him into an emergency escape procedure he'd trained himself a thousand times to do but had never actually had to execute. Until now. Then, suddenly, Tamama was flying over the ground to where Keroro was, his hand clamped to Momoka's as he dragged her with him, exerting enough force that she nearly fell over him in their rush, and then he was crying as loud as he could to his Sergeant,

"WE _HAVE_ TO GO! WE HAVE TO GET MOMOKA OUT SAFELY!"

His shriek pierced the atmosphere like a swift blade, and Keroro was all shaking terror and violently quick movement, throwing himself into action as he tore off from beside him, heading for the shallow shelter of a line of thorn bushes at the end of the tree line, while Tamama sprinted after him, his movement at first like a fired arrow, then slowing as he was hindered by Momoka's half-limping, half-trotting speed behind him.

By now they had gotten about the length of a basketball court between them and the snarling, snapping muzzles of the powerful beast behind them. Tamama ran as fast as he could, trying to chase his sergeant under the brush but losing sight of him for only just a moment too long- and then Momoka was there, trying to stop and gather her breath, she had almost no energy left. They were like lone sparks burning raw and rigid in the night, too close to going out. Tamama whipped back to her, adrenaline exploding in his whole being, suffocating his thoughts and pounding his heart so fervently against his chest he felt like it would burst.

They couldn't just keep running. They wouldn't win.

He found himself racing ahead and pulling Momoka behind the nearest tree before he knew what he was doing. But he already knew he had to do it. He drew her close up, their temporary cover buying them precious minutes. He must waste none of them.

"Momoka, I want you to go on ahead, okay?" He whispered."Can you do that? While I stay back for a second? Can you promise me you'll find Sergeant and go home? _Please?_" His voice shook and he didn't even try to contain it- it'd be a wasted effort. Momoka, meanwhile, had been violently awakened by the rush of escape and scrape of survival against near death, and her newly aware self shook against the weight of the words under his light, cheery voice. She nervously gripped Tamama's hand, which felt welded to hers at this point, but she returned to her old self in seconds, and bared her teeth at him with a hiss.

"What, of course not, you idiot! I'm not leaving you here to get eaten, there's no way you can beat it!" Tamama hesitated. Where was the courage from earlier? He had thought for sure he could beat it... _but even Momo-chii couldn't_... he shook his head violently, trying to knock away the thoughts. He tried not to accept the truth: He was scared. He was _really_ scared. He didn't want to fight, he wanted to be safe and in Momoka's arms back home. He held his breath, and he could almost smell freshly baked cookies and the feel the soft heat of a fire in the fireplace, everything he wanted right now. But he had none of that. Instead he had Momoka, holding his hand, covered with dirt and blood, and Keroro, lost somewhere in the wood, and the cerberus that no one could defeat. He wanted to run, so badly. But if he did the cerberus would follow him- to his home, or to the base. It would not stop, not for anything. He realized with paralyzing shock that if he ran away now... his friends would all die. He sharply breathed in, tears fogging his eyes, and he looked up to Momoka. At that thought, his chest hurt with a sudden spike and he didn't understand why. He pressed a hand over his heart, and breathed in, the enormity of the situation settling in. He squeezed Momoka's hand gently. He couldn't be a coward now. They depended on him.

They _needed_ him.

That was it, that was all he needed to know. He knitted his hands into tight little fists, and pounded one against the tree's bark as menacingly as he could. His path was set, all that was left was for him to follow through. And everyone would be safe. Everyone. He just had to fight.

"MOMOKA, GO!" he barked, and his voice was sharply followed by the sound of a tree snapping and splintering into a thousand angled shards under the massive force of a pounce by the cerberus, just feet away. Tamama instantly threw himself out from behind the tree's shadow, and turned to Momoka to see her one last time. He grit his teeth, and held his breath for only a second. Now Momoka _had_ to leave. He _had_ to fight!

He inhaled deeply and screamed at the top of his lungs, _"GO!"_

She blinked in protest, just once. Then, she was gone.

Then, there was no time. The beast hadn't waited, it lunged forward between two thin trees, bulldozing them with one powerful swipe of two of its' necks against birch, crumpling them under its' weight. And it was suddenly _there, _just a few meters away, and the entire copse became an arena with felled logs littered all around it, the atmosphere heavy and bitterly cold under the night's supervision.

And then it began.

It burst forward in one powerful stride, and Tamama dipped and dove off to the right, ragged breath burning his flesh as one of the heads swung and narrowly missed colliding with his hip, the sweet promise of razor sharp teeth filling his side enough to speed him up. He flung himself forward, his fists raised, ready to deliver a barrage of killer punches to its' underside, but instantly a head barred his approach and snapped at his arm. A loud _chink _echoed through his body as the teeth clamped down on nothing and left him rolling down to the ground. Earth flew as its' serrated claws churned up the soft soil and sent it in all directions, while it wheeled back and lunged lethally after him like a demented bloodhound hellbent on his flesh.

He dropped back, his body scraped and muddy, but wholly intact. He knew already that the only advantage he would gain was maneuverability. After all, the thing tossed itself between broad trees it had to fall just to fit through and sunk its' paws into the ground pretty awkwardly, throwing itself in wide, clumsy turns that left small openings, easily fillable by a head or claw, but, maybe, could be used to his advantage.

Tamama held onto that hope as he kept fighting. There _had_ to be a chance. He jumped high, swinging his foot downward in a wide kick, and was met with the swivel of its' body 90 degrees and and the sudden throwback of one of the heads that brought a silvery spike diving for his shin. He prepared himself for a flash of pain, but luckily, his foot found its' mark first, and struck harshly at the base of its' neck, connecting with a dip in the armor. Tamama instantly fell back to the ground, watching as the beast shrieked in anguish, the sound so warped and chilling that he stumbled back, its' octave incredibly alien and its' imbued emotion wracking through him from flesh to bone. He fell to the ground and clamped his hands over his ears, pressing soft fabric against his face in any effort to drown the call.

Only a second too long.

Hot breath stung him, and he looked up from his kneeling position. Three ruby red eyes hovered inches across from his, open wide and all-knowingly. A tongue slid out of a jaw as grey as steel and probably just as hard, and flicked forward eagerly. Scabrous canines glinted into his sight, white and flaring out, longer than his entire hand and dripping with corrosive liquid.

He forgot how to breathe.

It surged forward and he flung himself back, slamming into a tree so hard the wind was knocked out of his little chest. Gasping desperately, he slid sideways and back again, feeling for the rough bark of another oak behind him, using it to balance as his breath came back in hard, painful rasps. The cerberus had already twirled around, its' tail shooting out as it rebalanced, knocking into the nearest trunk with an ear-splitting _**CRACK **_as the sawtoothed edge ripped into it. It hesitated, just a moment, then jerked forward and hobbled back, and Tamama gaped dumbly as he realized it was stuck.

_A chance._

He pushed himself forth, and leapt high, raising his arms back and bending his knees as he inhaled with a puff of his chest, and drew power from deep inside, the aura resonating from a reservoir hidden somewhere deep in him. Quickly, he coaxed the lid of the power to burst, and he felt it begin to manifest in the back of his throat, his eyes burning with its' searing power and heat. It was a power of _pure_-

_** -Jealousy.**_

He recklessly let go, releasing what was left on the draw of the power, and it shot off as a yellow beam of light. It was ike a firework hissing through the night air, slamming right into the beast.

_**BANG**__._

The light exploded into it with all its' might, and the surrounding flora shook fiercely. Tamama rocked into the ground, barely regaining his balance after the aftershock wave kicked through him. Dirt, gravel, and brush, all went flying into the air and encompassed the area, forming an opaque wall of debris. It left Tamama unable to see very far at all, and the airborne dust stung his eyes sharply. He gulped.

_Had he done it? Surely, that much power... surely he'd done it in for good!_

Remaining cautious, he squinted against the dust burning his eyes.

Nothing moved. There was not even a sound.

For just a moment, he exhaled.


	6. Chapter 6: Can You Breathe

I dedicate this chapter (and the next, because this is more of a plot-mover and a bit short) to my dear friend Foxeon, who, how shall I say... Asked. For. It. Everyone else- please enjoy, and thanks for reading!

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A sudden sound whipped through the air, cracking across Tamama's body and jittering his fingers with vibration. A loud snare grew in the distance, sounding like undergrowth being trampled and abandoned sticks being smashed from somewhere nearby, with quickening velocity and reverberating intensity. Though he couldn't see through the dust anyway, Tamama whirled, his fear rising until it became an injection of pure adrenaline to his heart. He faced the noise's direction, tensed, in fighting position, his head tilted up towards any danger; prepared for anything.

"PRIVATE _TAAAAAAAH-MAAAAAA-__**MAAAAAAAAAAAAA**__!_"

Okay, anything except that.

From the swirling dust burst Dororo, his sword raised lethally to jugular-level, body swiftly angled to counter any blow, and his eyes glazed over with the effort of using some sort of ninja technique. Holding onto his shoulder and coming up no more than three inches behind him was Giroro, his gun also raised protectively, and though he swung it blindly back and forth in the dark dusk, it was clear that it was lethally loaded, and obviously on a light trigger. Tamama shivered as he imagined one of its' misled bullets pulling through his body, exploding into tons of shrapnel ripping through his muscles like mere tissue. If he was sure of anything, it was that if a cerberus was shot with it, it wouldn't die a quiet death.

And bringing up the rear of the search party, several meters behind, was his Sergeant, hustling to keep up and rubbing his eyes, probably clouded with dust. He blinked the last remnants away, and spotted Tamama's figure, squealing and immediately bearing down on him. He stopped a few feet away and let out a cry as he gave him a sharp salute from commander to subordinate.

"PRIVATE SECOND CLASS TAMAMA! I-I'm happy you're alright!"

Tamama allowed himself a shy smile, overjoyed at the arrival of his friends. Giroro was still blinded by the dust, and stumbled away in the wrong direction, but whatever Dororo was doing was obviously allowing him to see through the almost-settled debris and he led Giroro over by his hand, both of them cocking sly grins at him. Giroro finally closed his eyes to bludgeon the rest of the dirt from his eyes with his fist, and spoke first, business-like and serious as usual.

"So, was the danger neutralized? Is the subject safe? We heard a struggle and a bang, but didn't see what happened." He growled in a low tone, his gun not lowered from heart-level. Tamama nodded nervously, working his hand up and down his right shoulder. He hadn't noticed before, but dark cuts and smudges of dirt covered both his arms intermittently and he was suddenly very conscious of it, and flushed a little at the mars of battle. Dororo sheathed his sword and let out a breath of relief.

"I'm sorry it had to be put down, but I'm glad we're all safe now. Giroro, do you think we should head back, now?" He chirped with a tilt of his head. Giroro turned to him, pausing to think on the answer he was about to give, when Tamama suddenly realized something, and felt a terrorizing shock catch him around his throat. His tiny hands went over his chest and tightened over his heart. _No...no... I'm wrong. I must be. I just have to ask. I just have to ask! _He pressed down his worry as much as he could, and turned slowly to Keroro. Then he spoke, eyes wide with paranoia and distrust and happy smile completely and utterly gone.

"Uhm, Sergeant, Sir... if I have permission to ask..." He paused, caught, transfixed, actually waiting for a response. His sergeant nodded for him to continue.

"Go on, Private." Tamama tasted something sour and bitter on his tongue, and gulped to try and rid the taste. It didn't work. He opened and closed his mouth once before he could actually force himself to form the words he was so afraid so voice.

"...where's Momoka?"

No one breathed. Keroro looked down.

"Sergeant, please. Please, have you seen Momoka?" Tamama felt desperation creep into his voice. He did nothing to stop it. Keroro, head still down, looked away, out into the broken mess of trees. Tamama shook with a dangerous mix of fear and anger and anxiety.

"SERGEANT, PLEASE. WHERE'S MOMOKA!" He nearly screamed, voice breaking through and shattering the atmosphere. Keroro raised his head at last, and his eyes were hard. His voice was barely a whisper, and yet it felt like a scream right in his face.

"She's back there." A flimsy motion to the area behind him, surely now filled with more broken tree trunks. "She fell. She didn't get up. I couldn't carry her."

Tamama fell right to his knees like he'd been slapped across the face.

"How could you?" He brutally whispered, tears stinging his already cut face. Keroro looked away again.

"I couldn't carry her." He repeated emotionlessly. "We can go get her now."

Tamama said nothing. Giroro looked between them slowly, then touched Dororo's shoulder to signal they should go soon. Dororo shook his head, and stood still. Then, Tamama slowly stood and bit his lip as hard as he could so he wouldn't cry. He couldn't show them fear, or hurt. He had to show them he was strong. He had to show them he didn't care. He motioned for them to get going, and Dororo stepped forward, eager to be gone, but Giroro didn't move. Keroro walked on, but Dororo turned and tugged Giroro's hand mindlessly, trying to get him to keep going. Giroro shook himself free and slowly turned back to Tamama, face drained to a ghostly white and eyes wide.

"Private Tamama, you said you killed that thing, right? In this clearing? Just around here?" He whispered. Tamama didn't even have the energy to answer, and felt too sick to talk, anyway. He said nothing, and tried to move away, but Giroro grabbed him by the collar and shoved him forward so roughly he gasped.

"PRIVATE SECOND CLASS TAMAMA, I ORDER YOU TO ANSWER." Giroro snarled loud, right in his ear, and he twisted against Giroro's fist, but there was no option. He panted with the effort of breathing but Giroro clenched tighter and he cried out like a trapped puppy.

"YES! Yes! It was here!" He yiped, consciously aware of the air leaving him in gasps. Giroro nodded in dull response to his words, and let go of him, dropping him an inch back to Earth again. He then wordlessly raised his shotgun and pointed it forward, turning all about the area, muscles tight and eyes dilating to the rough greyish blue of his war mode. The dust had cleared and the whole copse was revealed along with it's true destruction. The wreckage was worse than he'd thought, a whole tree to his right had been felled and bushes had been smashed and torn from the earth like paper. But that wasn't what he was looking for. Tamama realized with freezing horror just exactly what Giroro had noticed before the rest of them; that besides the broken wreckage surrounding him, there was...

...nothing?

Oh _no_.

**...**


	7. Chapter 7: You're Just A Disappointment

This was going to only be part of one chapter, but it is already 2k words and my friend says 'JUST UPLOAD IT' ヽ(´～｀；）S-So... here is the first part. Yes, I changed my writing a bit.. (*´ｪ｀*)

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It felt like they were running until the ends of the earth, content on going until hell itself loomed at their feet. They were at full speed, no restraint, devil at their heels, starry light popping in and out of his eyes and making him dizzy. Little Tamama was holding on with a vice grip to one of Dororo's hands, the only thing keeping him connected to the earth, while the master assassin used the other to guide Giroro's journey as well, his ninja technique making him able to dodge and leap over all the wreckage and see deep into the opaque forest, whereas he and Giroro were swallowed by the dark and dust and could see nothing at all. Keroro was behind them, a tracker gun in one hand and a radio device in the other, as he whispered merciless commands to Kululu in a desperate attempt to get a hand on the situation that had spiraled so far out of his control.

Tamama had been the one to beg to go back for Momoka, sighs of regret battling his body as he drove Keroro and the others to go along with him, too. They'd dispatched quickly with Kululu's guidance, but now it felt like they were just running to run away from everything, path blurred from sight and journey pathetically desperate. They bounded forward quickly without a single pause, each step sucking out their breath with the force of a whirlwind wracking their lungs over and over to rob them of their senses and to dull their movement's precision. It felt like Dororo's speed relentlessly moved them and Giroro's endurance refused to stop them. That, and the night aided them none, calming down it's flurry of sunset shine to transition into cool sundown to come shroud the forest in its' black silhouettes and deliver a chilling touch that caressed all their spines with shivers. He knew they wouldn't have much time before it was too late in the night to search at all. Even now their feeble attempt felt like it roared off into the abyss with the most minimal expectation of success.

Tamama was snapped out of his thoughts at high speed velocity. A violent tug at his wrist launched him forward as a low hanging tree limb whipped into view, inches from his face. He ripped apart from Dororo and shucked under it, chest touching his knees as he popped up again on the other side. Then he heard a rough shout from behind him that told him Giroro hadn't been so fast. Next, a grunt of frustration accompanied a loud _SNAP _that echoed with a wild pound against his head_._ He twisted worriedly just in time to see Giroro ram the butt of his rifle into the branch and send a splintered piece of it flying through the air in a wide arc. He turned back to them, and Dororo paused, before running up alongside Tamama, leaving Giroro a few meters behind to gather himself.

"Are you ready to fight?" Dororo suddenly asked, body rigid, but voice wary and taunt with drawn out emotion hidden in the syllables. Tamama just nodded solemnly as he continued moving.

"I will if I have to. I mean, I don't really want to... but if I don't, Momo-chii might be...m-might be...-" he faltered, paused, and with terror filling his pupils, gave up. He couldn't even bear to think of it. Dororo quietly nodded, understanding.

"Don't worry, Tama-kun. I won't let it come to that. Not ever." His words came out comforting, but harsh, and he gripped the handle of his sword with strength, danger and security both pulsing from him at once with equal intensity. He was more prepared to fight that anyone else.

"Dororo?" Tamama whispered, cracking into the open night air, half to himself, half to the fellow soldier beside him.

"Yes?"

"If I... if I get hurt, will you save Momoka?" Tamama gulped. Dororo paused only a moment, then looked away, into the heart of the forest. Tamama felt heat rise in him, all anger and embarrassment filling him up. He tried again. "Dororo, please! You're a soldier! And you're... you're..." he flushed at the caught up words, but tripped over them before he could stop, "-you're the only one who'll listen to me...!"

Dororo raised his head and looked him in the eye. Some far away light seemed to have gone out of him without a sound, and it changed his demeanor completely. He was not Tamama's friend Dororo anymore; he was the assassin Zeroro that killed for hire in the dead of night with silence on his back and a garrote twisted in his hands. He was everything Tamama had never known, never met before, and it was mortifying. He felt himself pale in the face of death. He tasted regret.

"Yes. I _will _follow_ all_ orders, Sir." He used a voice that was cold and emotionless and almost spiteful and it sent chills tingling through the small of his back and shocking deep through his aorta. He'd never heard Dororo use that voice before, and had _never_ been addressed like that, it just felt like a tone reserved for addressing a coldblooded leader before a battle or kept on the tongue for a lowly Private speaking to a_ General_. Tamama caught his breath just above his chest with a sharp movement. _Had Dororo forgotten who he was talking to? After all, he was speaking to him like a commander- like a __**leader**_.

_No. _

He burrowed his head in his hands, ashamed of the reverence a master assassin like him had offered even in such a desperate moment, and he couldn't even accept it, he couldn't even bear to think he was better than Dororo. Dororo would've actually killed the dog, would've saved Momoka, and gotten home, Dororo could've done all that, and done it _right_. Tamama was nothing to that. Tamama was not even worth the breath. He shuddered the horrible stars off his back, and the sky murmured pity at him, but he only felt the whip of the wind.

He turned to Dororo, searching vainly for a response, but the ninja was already gone, all swerving, graceful movement through the brush and flashing katana through the night as he dove deeper and deeper into the flora. Then he was truly gone and Giroro had caught up, his shot gun at eye level and violence thick on his breath. He took one look at Tamama, but didn't even see him, and sprang forward with a lion's prowl to be immersed in jungle and leaf as well. Tamama hung behind a moment, soreness creeping back up on his chest and adrenaline still a live circuit in him with no resistor that was slowly exhausting his rationality. He couldn't take much more of this, they had to end this in one fell blow or risk_ everything_.

He was_ so_ tired.

Submersed in the depths of his worries, he didn't even notice at first when Keroro appeared at his shoulder. His leader watched him a moment, then clucked his tongue.

"Private Tamama, are you still waiting here? Aren't you going with everyone else? You're going to have to fight, too." He nodded towards him, his words heavy. Was_ he_ prepared to fight?

"I know. I will." Tamama whispered resolutely.

Keroro gave a cautious smirk. "You sound determined. Would you fight even harder than me?" Tamama raised his head, suddenly hardened and energized again. Something in Keroro's voice kicked his nerves into action and he knew he was ready for _anything_. If Keroro didn't think he could fight, then he would fight like all hell. If they all thought he was weak, he'd be strong as steel. He'd prove it to them. His breath came back without warning as a jolt of air and he sucked in a long gasp, thunder in his lungs and lightning in his eyes. Suddenly he was running and screaming his head off before he could even think, the journey was an adventure again and he was the prince off to fight the dragon and he was just having fun with his friends in his backyard, and he was running and laughing and yelling "I'M GOING TO FIGHT HARDER THAN AAAAALLLLL OF YOUUUUU!" at the top of his lungs like a streamer flailing all around him.

Then he was giggling ludicrously and saw Dororo's figure a league from him, and he closed in and leapt up to his speed, coming tête à tête with the proud ninja. He came close to him, but there was fierceness in his eyes he didn't want to bother, so he ran on, going even faster than that_ patta patta patta_ of Dororo's feet slapping on leaf and dirt.

And then he burst forward, emerged from a shrub's embrace, and was then in a thicket of wild rushes up to his chest with a line of trees about twenty feet away in all directions from the middle. He slapped the weak plants away, and peered upward. The moon was just beginning it's ascent into the sky, and slipped them a smiling wink from it's mantle. Tamama gazed at the reeds all around him, suffocated by the night. It was a field of golden stalks and straw-colored shoots all wanly flowing in the breeze, trees crowding all around the tiny thicket's edge.

Then something caught his attention.

Near the center of the rough ring of trees, in the very middle, the reeds were abruptly flattened. _Something could've fallen there_. Tamama couldn't see it from where he was, but he guessed it was something that wasn't moving at the moment, and staying low enough to the ground that he couldn't see it (though he was short and this didn't hold much merit). Worry speared his heart with the intensity of a harpoon. _It could be Momoka. _Happiness fluttered like a wounded bird caught in his heart. He'd found her. He could save her. He could fix everything. Everyone could be happy. He wasn't a failure.

Impatience broke him, and he surged forward in one movement, smashing the beginning of the reed patch with his weight, seconds away from barreling head-long into the mesh and running straight into Momoka's arms and letting go of all the fear from this night he was so, so sick of already.

But his reasoning came back to him, faint at first, then loud, a siren, blaring like a war signal, and it caught him by the ankle just in time, only one step forward.

_Or it could be the dog._

Tamama creeped forward, on his hands and knees, crawling through the reeds as quietly as possible. They bent under his light pressure, and he edged forward, straight towards the middle. In the distance, he heard Dororo's footsteps come to a halt at the edge of the rushes. So he was waiting there for him? Good. He continued on, pushing down the shoots with his belly and slowly making a faint trail in the growth. If the dog was here, if it was not wounded, it would notice him soon.

He gritted his teeth. He continued on._ I must be brave. I must show them. _He chanted to himself, over and over, trying to smother the fear exploding in him. _I have to be... I have to be this time...! I have to be strong!_

He was a foot away from a break in the weeds. They slapped him gently around the face, and he peered forward, kicking out the reeds from under him. He moved forward, and tensed, one hand reached out tentatively to the next gnarl of plant.

He pushed, hard.

_Three ruby red eyes hovered inches across from his, open wide and all-knowingly. _

He stopped breathing.

Then, from behind him, a shrill voice cried out in fury, shattering the calm.

"TAMAMA YOU IDIOT! STRIKE FIRST! _**STRIKE FIRST, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!**_"

_...M-Momoka?_


	8. Chapter 8: A Bunch of Broken Saviors

Hello friends... I am still here. I know I'm basically writing this story for myself at this point, but who cares. I don't know exactly what to say about this chapter... For sure, the warnings start applying now. And the only other thing I really have to say is _I'm so fucking sorry Skylight_ ,,,_ please don't hate me,,, much,,, _ヽ(´□｀。)ﾉ

* * *

Tamama didn't have time to think. Time to even breathe. He leapt forward, fist outstretched, teeth gritted. The beast lunged in one whole movement, raising to meet him mid-air. But Tamama was quick, was strong, was smart, was knowing, and his fist struck hard between metal and metal, grazing soft flesh he realized with a wild pound of his heart was one of the thing's eyes. He drew back quickly, but not before viciously bruising delicate muscles around it and the others, drawing a scream from the thing so horrendous he shook as he fell back to the ground. He spared himself a moment's glance, and found Dororo at the edge of the circle propping Momoka up, who was beaten and bruised to hell and back but had been fired up again with passion.

As Tamama watched desperately, their party grew from two to three as Giroro came flying out from the forest at stopped at the edge of the reeds. He rejoined them, ready to fight and battle and scar savagely. At first Tamama was bemused at his sudden halt, fear drilling through him as he silently begged Giroro to join the battle, but then he saw a vivid flash of silver and wood and there it was; _the _gun, the deadly thing had reappeared, and he sat it at his shoulder as he levered it upwards with one outstretched hand and aimed it up towards him- but no, not him- and he swung around instantly and there was the dog, his hell, snapping and snarling at the open air, three eyes weakened but six others set struggling to aide in his killing.

Tamama scrambled back instantly, and ran low to the ground as he weaved back and forth, glimpsing the thing pounding feverishly after him. It seemed he had hurt the middle head's eyes, and though the other two could still see, they were having difficulties maneuvering around the first. It was about then he noticed the cerberus was wounded over the shoulder, a thick red gash laid over bare muscle and tissue instead of metallic plate. It seemed shallow but definitely painful all the same, and made the thing's movements jerky and uncoordinated. He couldn't help but smile to himself with relief, knowing his jealousy beam had at least come to_ some_ sort of fruition.

But it was not enough.

It caught up to him and razed its' hot breath against his back, and he dove for the ground, rolling as he went_. Corporal, please,_ he begged inwardly, _if you're going to go through with this, then please, just save me, do it now, please! -_But not yet. He popped back up again, ducking and running in order to get out of the way, hoping it'd all be over soon enough. Then he spotted a swift movement in his peripheral vision, and watched Giroro swing his gun high quicker than he could react, before he could even move, and take lethal aim at one of the heads. Any normal shooter would never have been able to hit them as they writhed and tossed in the night, suddenly diving back and forth towards Tamama's own chest (he leapt back again, entering the edge of the reeds which swallowed him hungrily), but this was not a normal shooter. _This was __**Corporal Giroro**_, record-setter of the _entire_ Keron Military Academy, the man who could out-shoot a machine gun and pick a fly's wings off its' back from a mile away.

Tamama breathed.

The cerberus lurched back.

Giroro pulled the trigger.

There was a horrendous _**BANG**_ and a rolling _burst_ of white hot smoke, leaving behind a screech of pain that rent Tamama's entire body, that quaked him from top to bottom with fear. He froze instantly, eyes wide with terror, terror, terror. Then he waited. Listened.

It took mere seconds.

Then the cerberus was _back_, ripping through rushes like tissue and trying to pin him to the ground with one mighty sweep of its' muzzle right into his ribs. He gasped as he was flung away, but managed to squeeze out from under the jowls of the thing before it could snap. He quickly searched its' entire hide for imperfection, one last hope of a bullseye, but there was no bullet wound, no fresh blood, nothing. Terror filling his lungs until he felt like he was dry drowning, Tamama made a run for his edge of reeds, back into the very center again where the cerberus's movement had flattened the area, and leapt high, trying to sight the Keronian Corporal once again.

Horror made a dark shoot spread through his belly and bloom with panic in his breath. The gun had overheated, and sent smoke pooling around the trees and making a break for the sky. At the bottom of the slowly thinning streak was Giroro's figure, hunched low on the ground, almost deleted by the opaque fumes spiraling from the gun a foot away. Tamama lurched in pain, and the ground seemed to slam into him upon reentry. _The Corporal... was he okay? That gun... that deadly, deadly gun... couldn't possibly... have hit him... no, god no, __**please no**__!_

His thoughts were interrupted by the dog again, this time when it suddenly surged from behind him and leaned forward with all its' might, like it would tackle him on the spot. Tamama curled defensively to the ground and cowered underfoot, hoping it would overstep him, and took up barely any space there at all. But instead of feeling the rush of claws just inches above, he felt a rugged gust of wind and a loud _**THUD**_ behind him. He whipped around instantly, and fear harpooned his heart on contact. The cerberus had leapt straight clear of him, and was running hellbent toward the forest, straight for—

_Oh no._

"_**CORPORAL!**_" He screamed, despite the fact that he already knew his call wouldn't help at all, and yet he couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop the screaming or the running or the tremors wrecking through his legs.

_No, no, no, not Giroro, not him, not __**any **__of them- NO! _

But he wasn't even half way to sprinting behind the thing when his legs gave out and he rammed defeatedly into the ground, still whispering fear in broken sobs. The cerberus was only feet from its' prey now, and joined into the air in one huge movement of body to sky, lunging towards target. He was diving straight for Giroro's huddled body, which was no longer moving at this point. Tamama bowed down, and couldn't even raise his head to watch. His mute crying echoed ghostly into the air, but no one saw, no one heard.

_**CLANG.**_

Tamama choked back a scream._ No. God, no. _

_CLANG,_ _CLANG, __**CLANG. **_

He burrowed his head between his hands, hiding his face and trying to block his ears. _Please, god, no! They did nothing to deserve this- Nothing!_

_CLANG, CLANG, CLANG,__** CLANG.**_

_For the love of god, please, no. Please, make it stop. _

_**CLANG, CLANG, CLANG— SCREE**__**EEE**__**E**__**EE**__**EE**__**E**__**EE**__**EEEEEE**__**EEE**__**—**__**MAKE IT STOP**__**!**_

"PRIVATE TAMAMA! _PLEASE_ _GET UP_!"

For a second, he didn't even move. Was it just his consciousness? _But what could he do?_ He didn't respond. He was completely useless now. He was nothing, nothing, nothing... there was no hope.

But the voice persisted.

CLANG- "TAMA-" CLANG- "-GET UP-"_** CLANG**_ _"-__**I NEED YOU!**__"_

Tamama opened his eyes at long last, kicked hard against the ground without thinking, and was up again. He raised his head. Down the field, the dog was still fighting maliciously, but it had been subdued a slight ways before its' true destination.

It was the voice, the fighter who refused to give up- it was his _savior_.

And there he was.

Lance-Corporal Dororo danced and pirouetted with jab after jab from his sword, sparring wildly with the hellbeast, more savage and furious than Tamama had ever seen. It was like some lost light had been ignited in him, and it roared off throughout him with all the heat and intensity of a bon fire. His katana was a blur of steel crashing into steel as it met and clanged apart from the thing's hide, deflected every time but returning in an instant in an effort to reap any damage possible. It was a flurry of movement hard to follow and Tamama almost_ flew_ from where he was to the battle in an effort to help.

But it was not an easy fray to join. Dororo leapt through the air like there were wings at his back, sailing with the insistent need to protect Giroro- _and_ Momoka (who had retrieved the Corporal from his place fallen to the ground and retreated a bit deeper into the forest) from any possible harm. He also had much more energy ready to burn off than Tamama, and was fighting with a fiery passion, while the Private was worn out and sore from fighting already and running around lucidly through the forest. But Dororo needed him to help, needed him to fight so they could work together and overcome it with more than just the weak power of the shriek of Dororo's blade against resisting steel.

And Tamama ran to join him, throwing himself to fight at the dog's front, distracting the heads by weaving and bobbing vividly, kicking out occasionally at its' tough, sinewy chest but bouncing back and dipping forward and back again with even time, just fast enough to escape the rapid strike of a head that left its' teeth rattling through open air and just slow enough that it did not take its' eyes off him for a second, leaving a wide, accessible gap for Dororo to exploit with his furious routine of powerful slashes.

Then, suddenly, the ninja charged over the dog's back and gained traction overtop before it knew what was happening. He paused there for less than the breadth of a second, and drove his sword down in one sharp blow, wrenching apart a place between the armor and lacerating its' shoulder, making a wound smaller, but deeper, than Tamama's, and calling forth a succession of shrieks from the thing, each as ear-splitting as the last. Then Dororo fell to the ground, swooped low and tried to overwhelm its' flank while Tamama continued to lance its' chest with blow after blow from his powerful kicks. Light bruises were beginning to bloom here and there, accompanied by the satisfying sound of a deep, humble crack emanating from its' body as Tamama struck out and felt a muscle twist and twine the wrong way under his fist.

But Dororo's moves were quickly becoming not well judged ones. Reasoning and judgement began to slip away as he worked with an increasingly desperate fervor. Tamama realized with a sorrowed pang that he was not getting more and more angry at the thing, for putting up such a fight,_ no_— he was getting more and more _afraid_. As he moved, his onslaught became more frantic until he finally thrust out his blade at the thing's hind hip and received a swift blow in return that sent him ricochetting painfully back to the ground, where he lost balance and stumbled back on one foot, for a second- only a second- and-

_**WHAM. **_The hellhound's tail came whipping back through the air, and caught Dororo just above the chest with one fluid motion, and flipped him backwards like he weighed nothing at all. He sailed back through the air completely weightlessly and slammed into a tree with a faraway sort of_ THUD_ resounding through him, and gurgled something incoherent. He bowed his head down and a dull light in his eyes was extinguished with great force, leaving him a soulless body struck out in the night.

He didn't get back up.

Tamama took in a dizzyingly sharp breath, and a thousand thoughts buzzed off in him in unison. _Should I go help— Should I fight— Should I give up— Should I run— Should I wait for more help— What should I do— What _can_ I do— Dororo, please, __**tell me**__, I don't know what to do on my own! _Tamama stood, frozen, transfixed by watching his fellow solder- no, his _friend_- being _gunned down_ before him, and he couldn't think or move or even release a wail that would rise to a keen because god, no, Dororo had to be okay, he _had to be fine_—

The rest of the world did not wait for him. A searing hot pain exploded like a burst of fire into his chest, flames of deep agony rolling up his sides. He pivoted to see a steely muzzle breathing ragged air right in his face with its' teeth snapping into his chest and digging deep into the space around his ribs.

Tamama opened his mouth to speak, but there was no sound, he couldn't speak, couldn't talk- couldn't even breathe. His heart drummed violently in him and suddenly the sound came like the rush of a tsunami and his screaming rent the entire forest asunder, blood pounding through him as loud as the thousand cries escaped him, because he couldn't stop it, couldn't stop it if he even tried, he was too pathetic and weak and defeated to do anything but flail helpless against the maw. Then jarring sound went out like a light as he was viciously cut off by the beast when it threw his whole body into the air with one wild jerk of its' neck. Its' middle head held him deathly tight around the waist, teeth pushing deeper into him with every movement like backhanded hooks he could not resist. Every attempt at struggle just made things worse, and he panted heavily as his own blood raced down his sides and brought wave after wave of excruciating pain to roil through him and make him dangerously dizzy.

Then tears welled into his eyes as his back collided mightily with a tree, the harsh shock of it sending shockwave after shockwave to quake through him and sting him with all the pain in the world. The monster held him there, too, held him perfectly still with a ravenous look on all its' faces that let him know he couldn't last more than minutes, or mere seconds, before it was all over for him.

Then one head dove right at him and he only narrowly avoided a concussion by swinging his whole torso sideways, tearing despairingly at the wounds in his sides. He struggled to even breathe in the confined space, but already another head swung decidedly at him, this one much more key to its' mark. This time the teeth dug into his sides loosened a bit and he franticly tried to turn as far away as he could, pushing his shoulder and side into the tree, where he cowered into the comfortless presence of the trunk, hoping, begging it not to get to him.

It did not miss this time. At least, not completely. He cried out as teeth tugged at his tail, then choked through a scream as it swung back violently and sheared flesh from flesh, letting blood rush to meet the air and burn him with every touch. Tamama smothered another sob, almost unable to breathe at this point. Then he swung his head around, and searched the woods for help. No Momoka, No Dororo— for the ninja was still laid against the tree and showing no signs of moving— No Giroro,_ nothing_. There was no one. A fang tore deeper into his side and he cried out without warning, tears blazing his eyes into blurry light and drowning out his sight completely.

But through the light he saw another. Darker, but luminescent all the same. Approaching, growing larger, bit by bit. Tamama bit down hard and swallowed the pain, pushing it all away for as long as he could hold. There, in the distance, about twenty feet away, stood his dark light, at first pulling forth with great speed, then slowing and finally stopping just at the edge where Tamama could only just make out his figure.

It was Him.

Tamama sucked air noisily, hope and horror exploding into life like tornadoes ripping through his heart. And he fervently threw his lungs to work through the wracking of torment pounding through his body, desperate beyond belief for his last hope, his last, and final, light.

"SAAARRRGEEEENNNTTTT!" Tamama screamed, loud, wild, needy. The dog's teething in his flank subsided. Slowed. Finally, stopped. One of its' heads turned around to face the newly appeared foe. And there he was, his sergeant, his last hope, the only thing he could rely on in the end, and it was Keroro, his Sergeant Keroro, and it was relief and salvation and _**god**_, he just wanted to be _saved_. But Keroro stood far enough away, at the edge of the battle, hesitating ever so slightly to go forward. He was just so close to him, the dog, to being saved... and yet...

He didn't move. Didn't fight. Didn't come running at once to curl him into his arms and kill the beast and take him home to safety and warmth and Momoka, god did he need Momoka, but no, Keroro did none of that and he watched, feeling the moment last for ages and ages though it was seconds, and waited, waited needily for Keroro's presence and hope. But Keroro still did not move. He gave Nothing.

_Have I done something wrong? Have I ruined it? What did I do? What was it? What did I do wrong? _Horror raced through him, faster than he could fight it back down, and he twisted and bucked against the tree as he breathed too fast and too rugged and he was scared, he was really scared, he didn't want to disappoint him, he didn't want to do anything wrong but he just wanted to live, please, _GOD_.

He drew up his strength again, grasping emptily at nothing.

"_SERGEANT KERORO!_ PLEASE, HELP ME! PLEASE _FOR THE LOVE OF GOD_— _**HELP ME!**_"

No movement. Nothing. The whole world held its' breath, taut with tension.

Then one step. Then after what felt like hours but must've been mere seconds, another. And another. His Sergeant had fear coating his entire face, regret and pain too, but just _so much_ fear, so much more than he'd ever seen before. He thought he was afraid of nothing, would never back down from any being, large or small, but it seemed he couldn't take it any longer. Tamama began to grow colder and colder in his chest, and his eyes grew wide with true horror- no, he couldn't possibly, he couldn't actually- But then his Sergeant raised his head, and gave a terrible cry that felt more like an intimately pained whisper right in his ear that burned- that _seared_- his cheek as he said it,

_"I'm... I'm sorry!"_

He was going in the_ wrong direction._


End file.
